The One She Needed

FIVE

ALEX

I had been rather surprised when Raquel came to actually see me. At some point I grew convinced that she had been a figment of my imagination from a sleep deprived mind. And given the horrible week I had, seeing her somehow gave me a reason to smile, especially as I sit here thinking back on the events that took place after my brother, Sam called.

Flashback

"You're really not going to tell me what happened?" My voice came out steady—too steady. A cruel irony, considering I wanted nothing more than to lose control, to drive my fist into the nearest wall.

Rebecca let out a slow, rattling sigh. "Like I told you a million times, I fell down the stairs." Her voice was hoarse, each word dragging over raw edges.

She lay in the hospital bed, her once flawless alabaster skin now marred with splotches of black, purple, and blue. Her emerald eyes, usually sharp and full of fire, were swollen to slits. Her bottom lip, split and bruised, trembled slightly. But it was the damage beneath the surface that made my blood boil—broken ribs, a fractured arm.

"Must be some stairs you got there, sis," Sam muttered, his voice thick with sarcasm. He sat slouched in the chair beside the bed, staring at the ceiling as if it held the answers.

Being the youngest, Sam was always caught in the middle of our fights, playing the reluctant referee. But this wasn't just another sibling spat. This wasn't something I could brush off with a roll of my eyes and a sigh.

Rebecca may have been the oldest, but I was the one always pulling her out of trouble. And right now, I was damn tired of it.

"Oh, shut up, Sam!" I shot back, my voice tight. "Considering you're the one who called him after I told you not to. You have no right to say anything right now."

"If you just fell down the stairs, why wouldn't you want him to call me?" Sam's question hung in the air, and I could feel the sting of it before I even answered.

I slammed my hand against the table, frustration bubbling up. "Because it's always the same with him! You think I want him involved?"

Rebecca's eyes stayed glued to her lap, her fingers twisting the edge of her sleeve. The silence between us thickened, suffocating. I couldn't take it anymore. "Honestly, Becca, why can't you just leave him?"

Her voice was small, hesitant, but it still cut through me. "He loves me—"

"Loves you?!" I nearly shouted, my hands clenching into fists. "Getting treated like a punching bag isn't love. I don't know where you got that idea."

Rebecca's shoulders slumped, and for a brief moment, she seemed to shrink under the weight of my words. She muttered something under her breath, and my heart sank when I caught it.

"Well, Mom and Dad served as a perfect example of that. Of punching bags."

My chest tightened, my vision narrowing. That was it—the last straw. I had always told myself I wouldn't let her fall into that same trap, but hearing her speak like that... I was back there. Back to watching our parents fall apart.

I stood still, my mind spinning, but then Sam's voice broke the fog. "So, you aren't even going to think about how this is affecting Jamie?"

The mention of my daughter was like a cold splash of water. Becca flinched at the name, but I saw it—the flicker of something that might have been guilt in her eyes. If anyone could make her see reason, it was Jamie. The one light in this dark mess.

My hands trembled as I laughed bitterly. It was more like a broken exhale than anything. My heart ached just thinking about it, but the words tumbled out anyway.